The Jesse Stone Novels 6-9

by Robert B. Parker

  Jesse shook his head.

  “I don’t even know the governor,” Jesse said. “It’s you I dislike.”

  Kennfield stared for a moment at Jesse, then he turned and left.

  “Wait until he gets to his car,” Molly said.

  “Why?”

  Molly smiled.

  “I gave him a parking ticket,” she said.

  Jesse smiled and raised his right hand and Molly high-fived him.

  17

  How’s it going so far?” Jesse said on the phone.

  “Fine,” Sunny said. “She’s taking a shower right now.”

  “You think this might be kind of bizarre?” Jesse said.

  “If things get back to normal, it will get bizarre, I suspect,” Sunny said. “Right now it’s about sisterhood.”

  “She and Rosie get along?”

  “Deeply bonded,” Sunny said. “In fact, Rosie is sitting at the bathroom door as we speak, waiting for Jenn to come out.”

  “Jenn’s never had a dog,” Jesse said.

  “Well, she seems to like Rosie, and Rosie likes her,” Sunny said.

  “Jenn’s a lot of fun,” Jesse said.

  “Except when she’s not,” Sunny said.

  “Except then,” Jesse said. “I don’t assume you’ve made much progress on the rapist.”

  “We’re just getting ourselves comfortable together,” Sunny said. “I haven’t even asked her about it yet.”

  “Hard to investigate if you have to stay with her all the time.”

  “My friend Spike will help with the babysitting,” Sunny said. “And helping me investigate might be good for her…and here she is, looking elegant in a large bath towel.”

  Jesse could feel the memory of Jenn in his stomach. She would come from the shower like that, and flip the towel and flash him.

  “I need to talk with her,” Jesse said.

  Jenn said, “Hello?”

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can you tell me about Walton Weeks?”

  There was a pause. Jesse knew Jenn’s focus was deep but narrow. It would take her a minute to think of anything but her situation. Suitcase Simpson appeared at Jesse’s door, saw that Jesse was on the phone, and paused. Jesse waved him away and he disappeared.

  “Me?” Jenn said.

  “You’re in his business,” Jesse said.

  “Well, I know he’s very successful,” Jenn said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And he’s, let’s see…He’s got the weekly TV show.”

  “Walton’s Week,” Jesse said.

  “Clever, isn’t it,” Jenn said. “And he’s got his daily radio show, and the syndicated column he does.”

  “It’s in the Globe around here,” Jesse said. “Is he right-wing, left-wing?”

  “Oh, hell, Jesse. I don’t know. You know I don’t pay attention to stuff like that.”

  “Who would know?” Jesse said.

  “Have you tried the Internet?” Jenn said.

  “I’m looking for someone I can talk with.”

  “I don’t…” She was silent while she thought. “I know.” Her voice quickened. “My former news director, Jay Wade. He’s a communications professor now, at Taft, you know, in Walford.”

  “I know.”

  “I could call him for you,” Jenn said. “Arrange for you to see him.”

  “You and he are pals?”

  “Sure, we worked together for two years, Jesse.”

  “And he was your boss?” Jesse said.

  “Yes. He’s the one gave me that Race Week feature.”

  Alone in his office with his feet on the desk, Jesse nodded silently.

  “I can call him,” Jesse said. “Thanks.”

  When they had hung up Jesse sat motionless for a while. I wonder if Jay fucked her? He shook his head. Got to stop doing that. He stood and went to the door of his office and stuck his head out and yelled.

  “Suit.”

  18

  I been going through that list of names you got from the bodyguard,” Suit said.

  Jesse waited. Suit always admired Jesse’s silence. Suit thought he himself talked too much. He wished he were silent like Jesse.

  “Couldn’t reach the manager,” Suit said. “He’s in New York. I left word to call me back.”

  “And when he doesn’t?”

  “I’ll call him again.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “The wives all got back to me.”

  “Two ex- and one current,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah.” Suit looked at his list. “Two of them in New York. They still use his name. Lorrie Weeks is the current wife, and Stephanie Weeks is wife number two. Ellen Migliore, wife one, is remarried and lives in Italy. I haven’t talked to her.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “The other two were mostly interested in the estate, you know, the will and stuff. Current wife, Lorrie, was also interested in Carey Longley and how come she got killed.”

  “They have any idea what he was doing up here?”

  “Nope. Current wife says he told her only that it was business, and he’d be gone a few days.”

  “He was gone more than a few days,” Jesse said.

  Suit nodded.

  “Did that seem to bother her?” Jesse said.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jesus, Jesse,” Suit said. “She just lost her husband, I didn’t want to press her hard right away.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “She may have killed him,” Jesse said.

  “Jesus,” Suit said. “You think so?”

  “I don’t know,” Jesse said. “Neither do you. And there’s nothing wrong with kind. But we need to know what we need to know.”

  Suit nodded.

  “Everybody I talked to said they had no idea who killed him. They said he was controversial but not, you know, crazy.”

  “Threats?” Jesse said. “Hate mail?”

  “They said they didn’t know, that his office handled that stuff.”

  “Who’s the office?” Jesse said. “Carey?”

  “No, according to them she was strictly his personal assistant. His manager handled the, you know, business stuff.”

  “There’s probably a lawyer in there someplace,” Jesse said.

  “No lawyer on your list,” Suit said. “Maybe the manager’s a lawyer, too.”

  “Maybe,” Jesse said. “When you talk to them, see if there’s a lawyer.”

  “Okay.”

  “Any of the wives coming up here?”

  “I don’t know,” Suit said. “None of them said they were.”

  “Anybody been arranging for a funeral?” Jesse said.

  “The wife,” Suit said. “Soon as the ME releases the body.”

  “That would be Lorrie,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah.”

  Jesse nodded. They were quiet for a time.

  Then Suit said, “There’s stuff bothering me.”

  “Like not knowing who did it?” Jesse said.

  “Yeah,” Suit said. “That. But this guy’s a big famous public figure, you know. And nobody knows why he’s up here.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “I mean, there’s nothing in the papers about him going to give a speech. Guy as famous as him, you always see stuff in the papers. His bodyguard don’t even know why he’s here.”

  “Or says he doesn’t,” Jesse said.

  “And another thing,” Suit said. “I can’t think of a way to attract more attention to this case. Kill them at the same time. Save the bodies. Then hang the famous one on a tree. And wait awhile, and put the other one in a Dumpster.”

  Jesse smiled.

  “Surprise,” he said. “The press is all over it.”

  “For crissake,” Suit said. “It’s like the guy wants publicity.”

  “That bothers me, too,” Jesse said.

  19

  Jay Wade had longish blond hair that he combed straight back. His
eyes behind the aviator-style glasses were pale blue. His jaw was firm.

  “You still see Jenn?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “You two together again?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jay said.

  Jesse nodded. Maybe Jay Wade had never slept with Jenn. Or maybe he had. He could feel the muscles in his shoulders and neck tighten. Calm down. She’s not my property. If I were him, I’d have slept with her, too. The muscles continued to bunch.

  “Jenn thinks you can tell me about Walton Weeks,” Jesse said.

  Jay Wade nodded and leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head.

  “Actually,” Jay said, “I knew Walton a little. I was political editor for a station in Maryland when he was doing weather.”

  “Tell me about him,” Jesse said.

  Jay smiled.

  “Well,” he said. “Walton always had a good voice. People liked his voice. It projected well. He sounded like a guy from your neighborhood, but smarter. Walton always sounded smart.”

  “Was he?”

  “You know,” Wade said, “I don’t know. When I knew him he was a damn weatherman, you know. I never thought much about him being smart or dumb. After I left Maryland, and he got to be a national figure—I mean, who knows who wrote that column or the little editorial set pieces on his TV show. He seemed quick enough on the call-ins and guest interviews.”

  “So he has some staff support in all of this.”

  “Sure.”

  “You wouldn’t know any names?” Jesse said.

  “No. I don’t want to mislead you. I once knew Weeks in a casual workplace way twenty years ago.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “Did he ruffle a lot of feathers?” Jesse said.

  “You mean back when I knew him or in his national celebrity phase?”

  “Either way.”

  “When I knew him everybody liked him. He was pleasant,” Wade said. “Now that he is, or was, a national figure, yeah, he ruffled a lot of feathers.”

  “Conservative or liberal?” Jesse said.

  “God, didn’t you ever listen to him?” Wade said.

  “No.”

  “My God, what do you do with yourself.”

  “Mostly I’m a cop,” Jesse said. “When I have free time I follow baseball.”

  “Jenn told me you used to play,” Wade said.

  “Yep.”

  “And you got hurt.”

  “Yep.”

  “Tough,” Wade said.

  Jesse nodded.

  “What about Walton Weeks?” he said.

  “Walton’s a libertarian,” Wade said. “That probably brings him more in line with the right than the left. But basically he believed that government which governs least governs best. He believed in what he called the Eleventh Commandment.”

  “Leave everyone else the hell alone,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah. Guy like Walton Weeks,” Wade said, “it often depends on who’s ox he’s goring, you know? When he was hammering the tax-and-spend big-government liberals, the conservatives loved him and the liberals hated him. Now we seem to have spend-and-no-tax big-government conservatives in power, and he’s been hammering them, and now they are hating him. Maybe worse, because they feel betrayed.”

  “You agree with him?” Jesse said.

  “Currently I’ve tended to. But the problem with Walton is that he puts principle ahead of results.”

  “Like?”

  “Civil rights,” Wade said. “He believed completely in integration but felt the government should not impose it.”

  “And you disagree,” Jesse said.

  “A lot of us disagree. You think integration would have happened without government imposition?”

  “No,” Jesse said.

  “Then you disagree with Walton, too.”

  “Not enough to kill him,” Jesse said.

  “You think he was killed for political reasons?” Wade said.

  “Just rattling all the doorknobs,” Jesse said. “I heard he was a womanizer.”

  Wade grinned.

  “He was married several times,” Wade said. “Me too. Depends on your perspective. You, ah, interact with a lot of women and you could be a womanizer, or you could just be very popular.”

  Jesse tried not to think about Jenn.

  “Walton interacted,” Jesse said.

  “Often. It was an open secret in the industry,” Wade said. “Not that there was anything especially hypocritical about it. It’s not like you preach against drugs and you’re a junkie, or you preach celibacy and there’s nudies of you on the Web.”

  “So there could be a jealous husband,” Jesse said.

  “Sure,” Wade said.

  This is too close. Jesse could hear himself breathing. This is too close.

  20

  The law office was in a storefront in a strip mall. Jenn stood in the doorway with her microphone. Her cameraman focused. Sunny stood behind him, watching. She had seen no sign of the stalker.

  “Rolling,” the cameraman said.

  Jenn knocked on the door. It opened, but not very much.

  “Attorney Marc LaRoche?” Jenn said.

  Someone muttered something from behind the slightly open door.

  “Channel Three, how do you respond to allegations that you have consistently failed to adequately represent female clients in divorce cases?”

  Another mumble.

  “No, sir,” Jenn said, “it is our business. The public has a right to know.”

  There was something inaudible from behind the open door and then the door slammed shut. Jenn pounded on it.

  “Attorney LaRoche,” she shouted. “Why won’t you address this issue? Attorney LaRoche?”

  Jenn turned and looked into the camera, holding her microphone.

  “Perhaps Attorney LaRoche has something to hide,” Jenn said. “Perhaps not. Clearly he doesn’t wish to speak with us. We’ll stay on this until all the truth is told. We don’t take no for an answer. Jenn Stone, Channel Three.”

  The cameraman pulled back for a wide shot that showed a sign in the window: ATTORNEY MARC LAROCHE. Jenn kept looking into the camera until the cameraman said, “Okay, Jenn.” Then she lowered the mike and all three of them walked to the News 3 van.

  “You gonna do a lead-in?” the cameraman said.

  Jenn shook her head.

  “No. John will do the lead-in from the anchor desk.”

  “Okay,” the cameraman said, “then let’s go home.”

  Back at the station, Jenn took the tape to the editing room and left it.

  “We’ll edit this afternoon,” she said to Sunny. “Right now we need lunch.”

  Sunny smiled.

  “I almost always need lunch,” she said.

  As they walked across the vast brick plaza in front of City Hall, Sunny said, “Any sign of our stalker?”

  Jenn glanced around and shook her head.

  “Does he show up some places more than others?” Sunny said.

  “No,” Jenn said. “I never know.”

  As they walked, Sunny watched the men they passed. A number of them looked at Jenn, and some of them looked at her. It meant little. Jenn was recognizable, and both of them looked good enough for men to glance at them anyway.

  In the Parker House they sat at a window in the restaurant. When they had ordered, Jenn leaned forward.

  “We need to talk about Jesse and us,” Jenn said.

  Sunny nodded.

  “Do you love Jesse?” Jenn said.

  Sunny sat back in her chair with her hands in her lap. She was quiet for a little while. Jenn waited, still leaning forward.

  “When I’m with him,” Sunny said.

  “And when you’re not?”

  “I don’t miss him as much as I would expect to.”

  “How much would you expect to?” Jenn said.

  Surprise, surprise, Sunny thought. She’s not dumb.

  “As
much, I guess, as I miss my ex-husband,” Sunny said.

  “Do you see him much?” Jenn said.

  “He’s remarried.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t see him,” Jenn said.

  “We share a dog,” Sunny said. “I see him when he picks her up or drops her off.”

  “Why did you get divorced?” Jenn said.

  “I’m not sure, I’m working on it.”

  “No, I meant your idea or his?” Jenn said.

  “I guess it was mine.”

  Through the window Sunny could see a man standing outside King’s Chapel with his hands in his pockets. He was looking toward the hotel. Sunny didn’t know if he could see them through the window. It depended on how the glass was reflecting.

  “Could that be our stalker?” she said to Jenn.

  Jenn flinched momentarily, then turned to look at the man.

  “No,” she said, “that’s not him.”

  “You’re sure?” Sunny said.

  Jenn nodded slowly.

  “If it was him, I’d have that awful feeling.”

  The waitress brought their salads. Jenn picked up a scrap of red lettuce from hers and ate it.

  “I guess it was my idea, too,” Jenn said.

  “To leave Jesse?”

  “I left him.”

  “Why?”

  “I always say it was his drinking, but it wasn’t. His drinking got worse after I left.”

  “So what was it?”

  Jenn shrugged.

  “I was an actress,” she said. “I had an affair with a producer.”

  “Was he going to make you a star?” Sunny said.

  Jenn made a face.

  “Something like that,” she said. “When Jesse found out, he said he could forgive anything once.”

  “You promised never to do it again,” Sunny said.

  “Yes.”

  “But you did it again.”

  “Jesse couldn’t really forgive it. He didn’t rant and rave or anything. But…his drinking got away from him, I guess.”

  “So you divorced him.”

  “Actually, he divorced me. But it was my fault. By the time we divorced, he had no other choice.”

  “Do you know why you continued to cheat on him?”

  “Yes, I’ve talked with shrinks about it until my tongue hurts. It’s too boring to try and explain.”

  “I don’t need to know,” Sunny said. “You still using the same techniques?”